Chapter 82

“I won’t. Everyone has someone they can’t forget. Whether they’re together or not, they always want to have some sort of connection.” 

These were words she had once said herself, with only slight variations. He truly was the person most in sync with her. 

The director team behind them politely said, “Excuse us,” blocking the light but also clearing the path. In the end, the knight of roses still had to withdraw his arm. The show was about to start filming. Xu Guanrui helped Gu Yi hold the iron gate. 

“After I finish my upcoming performances, I’m planning to quit and take a break for a while. I want to spend time in different cities, watch performances, and meet friends. After working in the performance scene in Shanghai for so long, I feel like all my energy is drained, and I’ve run out of inspiration.” 

“And… what about your blonde-haired girlfriend?” 

“She eloped with a music producer friend of mine. I wish her all the happiness.” Xu Guanrui smiled. “The girls I’ve protected have all left me to find their own happiness. I suppose that’s my badge of honor, isn’t it?” 

That day, Gu Yi stood backstage during the program, observing the entire match from a distance. Alongside her colleagues, she tried predicting which contestants would advance to the semifinals, her mind occasionally replaying Xu Guanrui’s words. 

Among the contestants in the viewing area, she spotted one whose right hand had no fingers. Tilting her head to confirm, it was indeed the contracted actor from the company, someone who often joked about themselves as the “broken-fingered hand.” 

Xu Guanrui wasn’t wrong—she had to find the root of the issue in Liang Daiwen. 

Gu Yi posted the recruitment announcement for the third open-mic stand-up show on Antelope’s official account. The theme was “Regrets,” limited to disabled or impaired stand-up comedians. In the article, she sincerely wrote: 

“No matter what difficulties you’ve encountered in life or the discrimination you’ve faced, on this stage, you’ll have a lot of advantages—because ordinary performers don’t have this kind of uniqueness.” 

This was the closest effort she could make. 

I Never Saw It Coming… 

After posting the recruitment for the special stand-up show for people with disabilities, Gu Yi belatedly realized something: Liang Daiwen, who was deeply resistant to barrier-free design, might refuse to attend the show because of this theme. With the audience still queuing up on a walk-in basis, arriving late might mean he wouldn’t get in. She paced back and forth in the living room, unable to bring herself to ask, feeling even more nervous than the performers. 

Sitting on the floor organizing old magazines, Liang Daiwen, annoyed by the sound of her footsteps, said, “I’ll go, whether I can get in or not.” 

Gu Yi lied through her teeth. “What are you talking about? I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Oh.” Liang Daiwen didn’t expose her lie. 

Themed shows happened weekly, midweek. Antelope’s operations team had informed her it was already fully booked; arriving by 5 PM would be enough. They also mentioned that today’s disabled performers were particularly interesting, with some new faces among them. This made Gu Yi very happy. 

Stand-up comedy was perhaps the most welcoming industry for people with disabilities. Before the gazes of scrutiny, they preemptively used self-deprecating humor. Their diverse backgrounds only enriched the humor, and those with imperfections often delivered jokes that were unparalleled. 

When Gu Yi arrived, Liang Daiwen still hadn’t shown up, according to the bartender. She resisted the urge to call him and silently prayed he would come and give it a listen. 

It wasn’t until the last few performers that Liang Daiwen finally arrived. Gu Yi had a strong suspicion he was intentionally delaying, just as he had stubbornly refused to kiss her on stage years ago. If the venue were full, he would have been turned away. He nodded at her from afar, and Gu Yi felt that he seemed off today. 

Because of Liang Daiwen, she had begun paying genuine attention to this group and organizing shows like these. Thinking about it, it still felt worth it. 

The first performer was a short man with a slight stutter and a baby face. He smiled innocently, and today, the microphone stand was set lower than usual. 

“Hi, everyone. My name is Shorty. The voice you’re about to hear might sound a little strange. People often call me inarticulate or even think I’m a bit pitiful. But I actually got this way after a fever damaged my brain—cerebral palsy. 

Today’s special show is a little unfair. The organizer is a bit cheeky, taking away the competitive edge I usually have. You see, when I compete in stand-up shows, many people sympathize with me and cheer me on online, telling me to ‘stay strong.’ 

But that’s really unnecessary. We shouldn’t sugarcoat reality just to feel happy. And the reality is—I’m doing just fine, like any normal person.” 

The audience burst into laughter, and the short performer carried on naturally, showing no embarrassment about his stutter. 

“Don’t let my height fool you—I’ve got my advantages. I live in Tiantongyuan, Beijing, and everyone knows the subway there has only three stops, making it the largest residential area in Asia. It’s tough to squeeze onto the subway, but because of my size, when everyone else is cramming in, I can slip through the gaps between their legs, like the crow and the pitcher. 

The only downside is rainy days—I often get soaked from umbrellas brushing against me. I don’t mind the water though; back in school, boys would drag me into the sinks because my height made it just right for getting my head stuck in the faucet. They’d hold me down, making me choke on the water, just for a laugh.” 

“You’ve probably figured it out—I was bullied in school. There are different types of bullying victims: the high-achievers who get isolated, left with only a seat at the teacher’s table in the cafeteria; the loners who get pushed into corners, facing verbal and psychological abuse. 

And then there’s someone like me, the most popular target. On the first day of school, the teacher would remind everyone to take special care of me, so I’d end up in the sinks, in the dormitory trash can. The most unforgettable time was when I got shoved into a dry toilet. That was the first time I wished I were taller because I just couldn’t climb out.” 

“I’m not trying to elicit pity here—just stating the facts. After all, we can’t sugarcoat reality just to feel happy.”

After the little guy left the stage, Gu Yi noticed that today’s performers were all seated in the audience. The next person to take the stage was a woman in a wheelchair. A blanket covered her legs, and her slightly messy curly hair framed a beautiful face that bore a resemblance to Tokiwa Takako from Beautiful Life. She had been paralyzed in a car accident and now ran her own Taobao shop. Her speech carried a touch of irritable sharpness.

“I grew up in a wet market. My parents sold seafood. I looked pretty decent back then and even had a nickname, ‘The Mermaid of City Hall Road.’ At first, I thought it was a compliment about my looks, but later I realized it was just an early withdrawal on happiness. You see, every gift from fate comes secretly marked with its price.”

“I was hit by a car in 2006. My lower body hasn’t moved since, so my muscles have atrophied a bit. Your tolerance levels might not be able to handle it, but if you want, I could show you my slender legs. After seeing them, you’d realize that thinness isn’t always a good thing—there’s a kind of thinness that comes without sensation. I only show my legs in one kind of situation: when I need to assertively demand my rights. For example, when I need to use a disabled restroom or an accessible elevator and no one makes way for me, I’ll lift my blanket and reveal my terrifyingly thin legs to scare them off. The weak must display their weakness to gain power—sometimes even shamelessly—otherwise, we’ll gradually be confined to our homes, with no chance to go out. I’ve been to the World Expo and Disneyland, dragging these two useless legs onto many amusement rides. People often exclaim, ‘Oh! Why is she still out enjoying herself like this?’ As if I’ve lost the right to ride a carousel. But my hands are still functional—I can hold onto a horse that spins endlessly.”

“I probably sound a bit headstrong, right? But actually, I’m quite gentle. I even have a great boyfriend. He’s filled my home with smart home devices, so now I can just shout, ‘Xiao Ai, turn on the lights,’ or ‘Close the curtains,’ and I don’t need to move. Once, I told my boyfriend, ‘Look, your normal walking speed is 4.5 kilometers per hour, and my wheelchair’s speed is 8 kilometers per hour. If we’re heading toward each other, I’m faster than you, but I won’t hold it against you because we’re already running toward each other.’ But my boyfriend, being very rational, was puzzled and asked me, ‘Why would we do that? Walking dozens of kilometers like that will turn my 1.8-meter legs into 1.6 meters.’ I thought he was so unromantic. I’m the one with the health issues—why is his emotional awareness so weak…”

Liang Daiwen rested his chin on his hands, his eyes slightly red. Gu Yi felt a twinge of sorrow. Even though he was a malfunctioning robot, he was empathizing at this moment. These people with disabilities, like his mother, had become a group he instinctively cared about. It was as if a hardened part of his heart had always been cocooned, and now a sharp tool was slowly chipping away at that layer, drawing out warm tears. He hid his lips in his hands so no one would see him holding back. Gu Yi stood in the shadows, turning his head away to wait for the next performer.

Xu Guanrui’s initial “root of the issue” was starting to make sense—to let him get used to the fact that there are flaws everywhere in this world. Now, look at the performers taking the stage: an actress born with missing fingers, a retired police officer with crutches, a patient battling severe depression… Each person bore their wounds. The actors in the audience laughed openly—not just because things were funny, but because the humor carried such weight. Yet, even in these tough moments, they found resonance, seized the words, and swallowed them down to momentarily smooth over their scars. It wasn’t necessary to always keep the wounds life gave them front and center, nor to fixate on whether they or others had healed. There was no need to over-glorify dramatic ups and downs. Growth doesn’t have to come from shattering pain. Some parts of life’s rhythm can be temporarily reversed; the rest can be left to time. This venue mirrored people’s attitude toward life. The night wasn’t overly bright, but there was still a light on, because hope remained.

Time passed quickly amidst the laughter. When the last performer came on, Gu Yi checked the time and noticed that today’s event had lasted longer than usual. Looking up again, he saw Liang Daiwen walking past her side. Gu Yi wondered if he’d missed the announcement. There was still one more performer left, and he wasn’t heading in the direction of the exit.

Until he stepped onto the stage and introduced himself with a clean voice: “Hello, everyone. My name is Liang Daiwen. I’m an alexithymia patient, and I’m currently a universal design consultant.”

Gu Yi was stunned. What the…?

“I’m a man who can’t smile. Regular attendees might recognize me—I’m often in the audience and get asked, ‘Why don’t you smile? Is life too hard? Are you trying to give us performers the cold shoulder? Or are you deliberately provoking us?’ Actually, it’s none of those. I just lack feelings. Emotions like joy, anger, sadness, and happiness don’t stir much in me. Because of this, I’m often misunderstood and seen as cold and indifferent. The most extreme instance was at my grandfather’s funeral, where I didn’t cry even though he was very kind to me. Some relatives said, ‘You cried so much when your mom passed away, but not for your grandpa?’ But there’s a fine line here—I developed alexithymia after my mom’s death.

“As I grew older, people started saying, ‘Hey, look at that guy—he’s so high and mighty, so aloof.’”

As the performance neared its end, the audience’s laughter waned, and the energy flagged a bit. Liang Daiwen couldn’t escape the nerves, and Gu Yi wasn’t sure whether to feel anxious or excited. He was anxious because Liang needed to throw out a good punchline to lift the atmosphere, but excited because Liang Daiwen was feeling nervous. Forgetting lines was a natural reaction—it wasn’t something just anyone could do in stand-up comedy!

Liang continued with a straight face, paying no mind to Gu Yi’s silent anxiety.

“I never imagined myself doing stand-up comedy, nor did I think I’d ever be connected to it. Today’s event is titled ‘Imperfections.’ I reflected on whether I could qualify as someone ‘imperfect.’ Turns out I do. That’s why I volunteered. You might not have heard of alexithymia before. I have no imagination and haven’t dreamed since I was fourteen. The time you spend daydreaming and imagining the future? I use it all for studying and working. My grades were extraordinarily good because of it. Once I finished studying, I started exercising, which conveniently helps suppress the occasional sensations in my body.

“My feelings are different from yours. When your chest hurts, you might recognize it as heartbreak, sadness, or nervousness over test results. For me, I just think I need to go to the hospital. The doctor would get annoyed, saying, ‘Your tests are fine—why are you even here?’ Then they’d tell me, ‘Young man, this is psychosomatic. Go see a psychologist.’ After a few rounds of this, I began to feel pain—the pain of feeling nothing at all. The relentless physical discomfort led me to torment my psychologist endlessly. He’s in the U.S. now and rarely answers my calls—he’s afraid of me.”

“My main job is as an accessibility designer, because my mother was a polio patient and had to use a wheelchair for many years before passing away from a terminal illness. I’ve been concerned about these issues since I was a child. This position is very rare in China, so rare that I spent six months in the United States to secure a dedicated role. I used to earn extra income to support this hobby, working on handrails for schools for the disabled, outsourcing accessibility design for hotels, designing wheels for electric wheelchairs, and designing self-extending, balance-maintaining cutlery. Now, I design apps... The scarcity of positions has turned me into a jack-of-all-trades. You might have seen that row of workers standing outside the renovation market, each with their own specialization—painting walls, installing ceilings, filling gaps... If designers had a street like that, I could buy an ancient bamboo scroll to list everything I know... exaggerated, of course. But in reality, I can’t do it all by myself. If everyone paid attention to the needs of disabled people, there wouldn’t be a need for someone like me. For example, when cars block pedestrian paths, you can block their exhaust pipe with a banana, or when someone occupies a seat reserved for pregnant women on the subway and doesn’t give it up, just kick them off...”

The atmosphere gradually heated up. No one can resist a handsome guy telling jokes, especially when he does it so seriously without a smile. Liang Daiwen probably only does this once because he clearly dislikes the physical gestures he makes while trying to make others laugh; he really knows how to act, even though he’s already able to smile, he insists on maintaining the persona of someone who doesn’t, as if he’s waiting for a spectacular ending.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, Liang Daiwen said, “Finally, let me take a bit of your time to wrap up my performance. You know, after seeing someone with no expression, people get bored. Don’t worry, those of you secretly filming, go ahead, if you’re interested in my face, feel free to take a picture, just don’t use the flash.”

Look at this! This person really came to enjoy himself! Gu Yi was so disgusted, she couldn’t wait to leave. The man on stage saw it and wasn’t planning on letting her go.

“I won’t hide it from everyone. I first met my girlfriend here. This might be the first and last time I tell this story, because I really don’t belong in this kind of setting. I thought stand-up comedy was easy, as long as it was funny, but I complained about my girlfriend not being funny. After actually getting on stage, I realized—it’s not hard, but if I keep going, I might steal her spotlight. Just kidding. So, Teacher Gu, don’t leave, I want to tell you something in front of everyone—”

Gu Yi’s eyes went wide, wanting to run but unable to, and the audience erupted: “Is he proposing?”

“I know you’re all waiting for this cliché scene—don’t flatter yourselves.” Liang Daiwen said this seriously, being particularly annoying: “For people like me with an emotional disorder, not getting married is actually better. It’s tough on her because I suffer from relapses, often malfunctioning. Keeping a piece of junk like me at home, it’s hard to guarantee that she won’t want to swap me out in the future.”

The audience immediately reversed their stance: “Don’t marry him!”

Liang Daiwen remained expressionless the whole time, but now he coldly pointed at the people leading the heckling from the audience, making everyone laugh. He half-knelt, changed the church vows into a more absurd version, and said seriously, “Teacher Gu, thank you for staying by my side. The next words, I’ve been holding in for a long time, you need to listen carefully—”

No, definitely something is off!

“Would you continue to love me, even if I don’t cry, don’t make a scene, occasionally malfunction, have a sharp tongue and a chainsaw heart, but still let me snuggle up to you and be your sweet little baby?”

Now it was Gu Yi’s turn to get disgusted by his cheesy words. She shouted, “I don’t want to!”

He didn’t stop, continuing to ask, “Teacher Gu, then would you still want me to stay with you? No matter how silly you are, scatterbrained, lecherous, not good at making money, but still determined to fight with me, to be my little sweetheart…”

“Shut up! Shut up! Help!”

Gu Yi, who was about to run, was coaxed onto the stage, feeling more embarrassed than any time she had been on stage before. Standing in front of Liang Daiwen, with his calm face and red ears, she was so angry she could hardly stand it. Just stop pretending! Liang Daiwen fumbled around in his pocket for a long time, but there was no velvet box or wedding proposal scene. Instead, he clenched his fist and extended it to her. Gu Yi, embarrassed, gritted her teeth: “Don’t tell me it’s my front tooth, stop with the act...”

Liang Daiwen opened his hand, covering her face: “Stop being vain, who’s proposing?”

... That callback was really great!